


Temporal Vertigo

by Micheofftrash



Series: Temporal Vertigo [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 22:07:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11655681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Micheofftrash/pseuds/Micheofftrash
Summary: It was a Thursday when Michael Mell went missing.[A story of dimension-splitting video games, a dozen roses, and a boss fight to remember.]





	Temporal Vertigo

**Author's Note:**

> Super excited to finally be sharing this with you all. Enjoy!

It was a Thursday when Michael Mell went missing.

Jeremy spent the morning confused. Michael hadn’t responded to his text from the previous night.

 

_To: Michael_

_[10:03 PM] Hey, did you get that new game you wanted to try?_

 

It wasn’t like Michael to ignore him completely, even when he was mad.

There had been one time in third grade, when Jeremy had accidently gotten permanent marker on Michael’s favorite stuffed lion, and he had refused to speak to him for an entire week. But even then, they still hung out, still played computer games while Michael pretended to look mad whenever Jeremy looked over at him.

He sent out another text when he reached their shared study hall, and Michael was still nowhere to be found.

 

_To: Michael_

_[11:10 AM] Are you okay man? Haven’t seen you at school???_

 

Time passed. Bells rang.

Michael didn’t respond.

 

When Jeremy showed up at the Mell house after school, Michael’s mother was tending to the garden out front, kneeling in the grass with gloves and an apron, pulling up weeds. She was surprised to see him alone.

“Jeremy! It’s good to see you honey. Where’s Michael?”

Jeremy frowned, feeling something uncomfortable pooling in his stomach.

“He wasn’t at school today. Is he,” Jeremy paused, nervously pulling at the straps of his backpack. “Is he not… here?”

“No, dear, I thought he…” And Mrs. Mell paused, her features freezing in a way Jeremy had never seen before. She quickly stood, brushing the dirt off her lap.

“Jeremy, why don’t you come in? No need to worry.” She smiled at him, but it wasn’t a real smile. Jeremy could see the beginnings of something in her eyes. Panic, maybe?

Jeremy felt like he was going to throw up.

 

The police showed up Friday morning, after Michael failed to appear later that night.

Jeremy was bombarded with questions. _Where would Michael go if he ran away? Has he ever threatened to hurt himself? Have you seen anyone suspicious hanging around recently? Did Michael seem worried about anything on Wednesday? Was anyone bullying him at school?_

The interview seemed to go on for hours, Jeremy answered as best he could. He hadn’t cried yet, no matter how much he wanted to. He was simply numb. He couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.

It didn’t help when the police turned up empty handed. After weeks of searching, then months, there was nothing. It was as if Michael has simply vanished, without a trace.

Jeremy, for all intents and purposes, broke down.

He would shoot awake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, nightmares of Michael’s voice haunting his subconscious. He had panic attacks in school. It was as if Michael was there, right on his periphery, managing to disappear just as Jeremy turned his head. It was driving him insane.

He stopped eating. He stopped sleeping. He stopped _everything_.

 

It was one year to the day, when Mrs. Mell told them the news.

(She had been coming over fairly often, making dinners for the Heere boys and offering to clean the house. Jeremy thought she was lonely.

It was okay, he understood.

Sometimes he would show up unannounced at her house, and drag his feet up steep stairs until he reached the third door on the right. Michael’s bedroom hadn’t been touched. It was still exactly the way he left it – clothes piled up on the floor, a Bob Marley poster on one wall, the other adorned with a gay pride flag. There was a photo of Jeremy and Michael tacked above his desk, surrounded by tickets to every concert they had ever been to together. The small TV in the corner of the room was turned off, but the bean bag on the floor was still indented, as if someone had just sat there moments ago. Michael’s cell-phone still sat on his dresser, with too many unread text messages to count.

Jeremy would sit on Michael’s bed, unmoving, for hours. Just wishing. Just waiting.)

She sat the two of them down and explained that the police had officially closed the case. There had been no activity – no leads – in months. Seeing the calm devastation on her face, Jeremy knew she had given up hope.

Jeremy turned his head and vomited over the side of the couch, his body violently lurching as sobs wracked through his body. He could vaguely feel his father’s soothing hand on his back. His mind was a mantra, buzzing with guilt and grief and unbearable pain.

_I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry._

Late at night, alone in his room, Jeremy cried again. He had never gotten the chance to tell Michael how he felt – and he never would.

In the end, all pain comes to an end. Even pain that you thought would tear you apart.

Jeremy started his senior year, darkened bags under his eyes, having forgotten what it was like to smile. He made his way through the crowds of teenagers, unseeing, fingers gripping the straps on his backpack as if they were his last lifeline – the only thing holding him to reality.

And then,

“Jeremy? Jeremy Heere, right?” He jumped at the sudden voice, curling in on himself as he turned to see who was talking. If felt like he hadn’t actually talked to anyone his age in years.

It was Christine Canigula, a girl from his grade. He remembered having a crush on her last year, and Michael teasing him endlessly.

(“ _Jeremy and Christine sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S- OW! Hey, that hurt dude!” Michael laughed, rubbing his arm where Jeremy had smacked him._

_“I hate you.” That only made Michael’s grin wider._

_“Aw, Jere-bear, you could never hate me. I’m your favorite person, remember?”_

_“Yeah, right. Kindergarten called, it wants its jokes back.” And Michael threw back his head, laughing out loud. Jeremy looked at him fondly, knowing he wanted to hear that laugh for the rest of his life.)_

He cleared his throat, shaking his head to get rid of his thoughts before they drowned him.

“Yeah- yes. Hi Christine.” She smiled tentatively, reaching up to brush a hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear.

“Me and Jake were wondering if you wanted to sit with us and the rest of the gang at lunch? I know we’ve never really hung out before, but…”

_But we know your best friend went missing last year, and you look about 10 seconds away from killing yourself._

And Jeremy knew it was pity. He knew what he must look like to the rest of the school. He knew and he didn’t care, because he needed something – _anything_ – to pull him back on dry land. To help him stop the hole in his chest that seemed to be eating him alive.

“Yeah, t-thanks Christine. I’ll be there.” She politely ignored the way his voice shook on every syllable.

And slowly, it got better.

Not the gaping hole in his chest, because that was a Michael shaped space that couldn’t be filled with new friends or experiences. It still sat there, heavy on his heart – but he learned to breathe through it.

He signed up for the school play at Christine’s encouragement. He ventured to the mall with Brooke, Chloe, and Jenna on the weekends. Rich and Jake invited him to their parties.

Rich and Jake invited him to play video games with them as well. He declined every time.

 

On graduation, nearly two years after Michael went missing, the school put an empty chair where he would have sat. Jeremy placed a red bow on the seat, stained with tears, and cried throughout the ceremony.

When he walked across the stage for his diploma, Mrs. Mell’s cheers drown out all the rest.

 

 

**15 YEARS LATER**

“Okay everyone,” Jeremy called loudly, getting the class’s attention. The students shuffled anxiously, glancing at the clock as they tried to quietly pack their things.

“Remember, there’s no homework for this weekend, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be thinking about your semester long projects. They’re due two weeks from now, and don’t think you can try to do them all last minute. Alright?”

A few kids nodded. Most were resolutely ignoring him in favor of tapping their feet, waiting for the bell to ring. Jeremy smiled.

“Alright. You guys can go a little early today. Have a good weekend.”

They scattered, feet moving faster than Jeremy thought possible as they ran out of the theatre and into the bustling halls.

He stood slowly, stretching his back and hearing a few concerning pops as his bones shifted. God, he was getting old. As he picked up his messenger bag from under his desk, he heard a soft voice clear their throat from behind him.

“Ah, Michael! What can I do for you?” The freshman had short blonde hair and a nervous smile. He reminded Jeremy of himself when he was in high school.

“Mr. Heere, I was- I don’t know if I can…” He took a deep breath, face red as he stuttered. “I don’t think I can per-perform a monologue in front of- of the class.” Jeremy nodded his head reassuringly.

“You know, I was really scared of public speaking when I was in high school.” Michael’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“You? Really?”

“Yup.” Jeremy laughed. “The first time I performed, I thought I was going to throw up the whole time.” The freshman nodded.

“Exactly! And if I throw up then Todd and everyone else will think I’m a total loser.” Michael’s blush covered his entire face.

“Well, how about this. During your study hall next week, you can come perform it for me and Mr. Dillinger, alright? Then maybe next time you’ll feel comfortable doing it for everyone else.”

Michael jumped on the balls of his feet happily, nodding his head in excitement.

“Yes, yes! Thank you, Mr. Heere.” Jeremy laughed, turning away from the boy to unlock his desk drawer and pull out his wallet and keys. Having assumed Michael had left, Jeremy jumped when he turned around and the blonde was still there, staring intently at a photograph on his desk.

“Mr. Heere, who’s that? Is that your…?” The boy didn’t seem to know how to finish that sentence. Jeremy smiled bitterly, gently picking up the frame and bringing it closer to him.

It was the photo of him and Michael, arms thrown around one other, that had sat on Michael’s wall for years after his disappearance. Jeremy had taken it for himself after Mrs. Mell’s death a few years back.

“It’s an old friend. Actually, his name was Michael too, funnily enough.” Michael seemed to notice Jeremy’s drop in mood.

“I’m sorry. Is he… dead?” Jeremy cringed, and the boy’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t mean to! Erm, I’m – I’m sorry Mr. Heere, I…”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. It was a long time ago.” They sat in silence for a few beats, Jeremy holding the frame and staring at Michael’s face, before he sighed and placed it back on the desk. “Anyways, I’m sure you want to get to your weekend. And I’ll see you next week?”

Michael nodded, already backing away and practically running out of the theatre and away from the awkward atmosphere he had created. Jeremy wiped a hand down his face, taking a deep breath, before gathering his supplies and heading to the closest flower shop.

 

Armed with a dozen roses, the winding drive through the cemetery felt all too familiar. Pulling his car underneath a large oak tree, Jeremy trekked the well-worn path toward a small headstone located at the edge of the lot. He smiled as he approached.

“Hey Mrs. Mell,” He said quietly, sitting crisscross in his usual spot. He cleared away the old flowers that had withered, resting the new vibrant roses against the heavy stone. “Brought you some new flowers. Red – Michael’s favorite.”

He leaned back, turning his head to the sky, and breathed deeply.

“There’s a kid in my class this year that reminds me so much of me. You remember high school, when I was a stuttering mess? Michael always told me I could turn red in an instant. The second I saw a cute girl, I was gone for.” He laughed, picking at grass with his hands.

“Dad’s doing okay. They think he might have something going on with the joints in his hands – they’re causing him a lot of pain these days. I’ll try to get him into the doctor, but you know how he gets.” Jeremy shook his head fondly, and made a mental note to call his dad later tonight.

“Christine says hello, by the way. I know you were upset when we got divorced, but I think you knew just as well as anyone that we were always better friends than partners.” He laughed again, but this time it was bitter, and painful. “Your son stole my heart first anyways, and he never really gave it back. So rude of him, right?”

Though he tried not to, his gaze turned to the left, where another headstone stood a few feet away. It was identical to Mrs. Mell’s, with a different name etched into the stone.

He hated looking at it. Jeremy and Mrs. Mell had fought for an entire week when she said she was going to buy it. It had been the final nail in the coffin, so to speak. The final confirmation that Michael was gone for good, and never coming back.

Despite the tears forming in his eyes, Jeremy crawled over to Michael’s empty grave. He rested his forehead on the cold rock, his hands reached up to trace the name over and over again.

“I love you.” He whispered. It was never enough.

He sat there for hours, until the sun had gone down and the bugs began to nip at his skin. His pants were soaked from the wet ground, and his heart was heavier than it had been for a long time.

Still, Jeremy eventually sighed and stood, his knees cracking painfully as he hobbled back to the car. Looking back at the gravestones, he put the car in drive and began the short ride to an empty house.

 

The sound of someone jiggling the front door made Jeremy freeze from his position on the couch. He had just finished eating half of a pizza on his own, and was about to start a rerun of _America’s Next Top Model_. He sat there, unable to act, as the movement became more persistent and agitated, like someone really wanted to come in, and was upset that the door was locked.

Jeremy had lived here since Mrs. Mell passed away. While the house itself was a constant reminder of what he had lost, he couldn’t bear to see it sold away to someone who wouldn’t appreciate it. Until this point, he had never had any trouble before with criminal activity. It was a pretty safe neighborhood – he could remember countless nights where he and Michael had snuck out through the basement, leaving the door unlocked for their return. In hindsight it was one of the more foolishly careless things they had done, but they had been dumb kids.

 _You’re and adult Jeremy_ , he reminded himself, heart beating heavy in his throat. _You’re not supposed to get scared of strange noises anymore_.

Suddenly, whatever was on the other side of the door began banging. Loudly.

Jeremy jumped at the sudden noise, a scream caught in his throat as he fell off the couch. The silence that followed was disrupted by his heavy breathing. After a moment, the banging began again.

“Mom! I know you’re awake, I can see the light on!” A voice called – a voice so familiar, and so foreign at the same time, that Jeremy nearly felt his heart stop.

He tried to race toward the door, but his legs wouldn’t work. Eventually he was able to get himself upright enough to stumble toward the entryway, his hands shaking on the lock.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door swung open, to reveal…

Nothing.

Jeremy couldn’t stop the tears, his legs giving out. The voice had been so real, so tangible in comparison to his dreams. Taking in a shaky breath, he covered his face with his hands and let himself sob. His mind had played tricks on him before too many times to count, but it hadn’t happened in years. He tried to calm himself, blaming his apparent hallucination on his compromised emotional state.

“Um, dude, are you… okay?”

Jeremy almost gave himself whiplash as his neck snapped up to see his visitor. There, standing at the bottom of the porch, was a kid in a red hoodie. His face was scrunched up with confusion and concern, taking in the middle aged man sobbing in the doorway.

It was a face that Jeremy didn’t think he could ever forget.

“Michael?” Jeremy asked in disbelief, his voice shaking as all of the air left his lungs.

Michael didn’t look a day over 16. He still had some of the baby fat around his cheeks, hair sprouting in every which direction, with his signature headphones resting comfortably around his neck. Jeremy had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, clearing his tears and refusing to believe that this was _real_.

“Michael.” He repeated, shocked.

“Er, yes? Do I know you?”

And Jeremy had to laugh. Because _of course_ Michael wouldn’t recognize him – his hair was longer, for one. He had bulked up quite a bit while working out with Rich and Jake over the years. He had stubble now, instead of the baby face he’d sported during high school. He laughed again, and Michael looked terrified.

“Michael. It’s me. Jeremy.” Michael took a step back.

“Yeah, no dude. I don’t know what they hell you’re doing, or why you’re in my house, but this isn’t funny.” He looked ready to bolt. Jeremy felt his heart lurch in panic at the thought.

“No, no! I’m serious, look at me.”

And Michael did look, his features becoming panicked as the moments ticked by.

“What the fuck.” His voice cracked, and his gaze began dashing around wildly, as if he were just suddenly taking in the fact that his home looked _different_ from the last time he saw it. The shutters that had once been blue were red. Michael’s bike was no longer in the driveway. The treehouse in the backyard was gone – and so was the tree, having fallen over during a particularly nasty storm.

“Michael,” Jeremy started, tentative, as if he were talking to a scared animal. “What year do you think it is?”

“This- this is a joke right?” His eyes were wide. Jeremy stood up.

“Hey, c’mon in. I’ll explain everything.”

 

If you had told Jeremy yesterday that Michael Mell would be sitting on his sofa sadly eating a bowl of captain crunch, he would have punched you. Or fainted. Both, probably.

“Can I-” Jeremy started, breaking the silence that had fallen over the pair. Going through it all again – the disappearance, Mrs. Mell, Christine… it was a lot for Jeremy to handle, let alone Michael.

Emotionally exhausted, Jeremy felt his eyes drooping slightly. He couldn’t close them – not with the ever present fear that Michael would vanish at any moment. “Can I hug you?”

His voice was small, thick with tears as he was continually bombarded with the realization that Michael was _here._

_Michael is here. Michael is here. Michael’s not dead because Michael is sitting right. Fucking. Here._

Michael, to his credit, only hesitated a moment before setting down the cereal bowl and opening his arms. “Of course, buddy.”

Jeremy dove at him, arms reaching around Michael’s shoulders and pulling him in tight. Tucking his nose into the younger boy’s hair, Jeremy started sobbing again as the familiar smell of vanilla and weed hit his senses. He laughed through the tears.

“God, I missed you so much.” He whispered. Michael began rubbing a soothing pattern on his back, between his shoulders. Jeremy felt himself melt into the touch.

“You realize this is kinda weird right? You’re, like, really old.” Their laughter, together, was the most beautiful thing Jeremy had ever heard in his life.

He didn’t know what they were going to do. He didn’t know how to fix this.

It didn’t matter.

Michael was alive. Jeremy couldn’t give a single fuck about anything else.

 

From Michael’s perspective, he had been gone for about 10 minutes. The idea was so absurd to Jeremy that he almost felt offended.

Apparently, Michael had just loaded up a new game he wanted to try with Jeremy – _Temporal Vertigo_ – when he decided to walk to 7/11 and buy a slushy. The machine had been broken, and he walked home empty handed to find himself locked out of the house. After banging on the door, he had gone around the side to look in a window, before returning to see an adult Jeremy sobbing on the front porch.

(“ _Shut up, I wasn’t sobbing.” Michael grinned._

 _“Full on sobbing. I’ve never seen a grown man cry like a baby before.” Jeremy hit him in the arm. The sarcastic ‘I hate you’ was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He couldn’t even joke about something like that – not after everything._ )

 

“So… how do we fix this, exactly?” Michael asked, somewhat awkwardly, as he picked at the fraying thread of the couch cushion.

Jeremy opened his mouth. Then closed it.

The fact that there may not _be_ a way to fix their problem floated between them, unspoken. Neither of them wanted to admit it.

“We should, you know, retrace my steps – or something.” Michael said slowly, and Jeremy nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat.

 

Entering Michael’s old bedroom felt like a punch to the gut. Jeremy had stopped going in there years ago, long before Mrs. Mell died. It was too painful – to see everything in its place, but missing one vital piece. He held his breath as he walked through the doorway, shoulders hunching in on themselves.

Michael gasped.

“It’s- you guys kept it the same? Even after… all this time?” His voice trembled.

“Mrs. Mell- your mom. She always… I think she always believed that you would come back.” _I always believed that you would come back_.

Jeremy bit back a sob, tears threatening to overflow. God, he missed her.

“I’m sorry.” Jeremy turned. Michael was hugging his arms to his chest, tears softly dripping down his chin. It was the first time he had cried the entire night.

“Hey,” he moved closer, pulling Michael into a hug. “It’s okay. It’s okay. You didn’t do anything.”

“My mom… she-she _died_ , without ever seeing me again. And _you_ -” Jeremy held on to his shaking form, rubbing small circles on his back and whispering into his hair.

_It’s okay, it’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay._

 

“So it has to be the game, right?”

“What?”

Michael rolled his eyes, stepping over a pile of clothing on the floor and coming up to the small TV in the corner of the room. A thick layer of dust had accumulated over the years. Mrs. Mell had always dusted to make sure everything stayed in order, but Jeremy had been neglecting that particular duty. He felt shame shoot down his spine as Michael began wiping it away with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“ _Temporal Vertigo_? If there was ever going to be a time-travelling, dimension splitting game, that’s what I would call it.” He shrugged with a smile, turning on the screen and powering up the outdated console.

“Is that thing still gonna work?”

Despite Jeremy’s fears, the device whirred to life. On the TV, an 8-bit game home screen appeared; _Temporal Vertigo_ displayed in blocky green text.

Underneath, in flashing blue letters, read: _“Waiting for Player 2”_.

Jeremy, distracted by the text, didn’t notice Michael move until the controller was placed in his hands. He stared down at it, dumbfounded.

“I haven’t… I-” He stuttered, holding the controller as if it were a precious artifact. Michael looked at him, confused.

“What’s wrong? If this is what I think it is, then we have to beat the game, and then I’ll be sent back. Right?” Jeremy shook his head, handing the controller back to Michael.

“I can’t- I haven’t played… not since…” and Jeremy bit his lip, turning away so Michael couldn’t see the expression on his face. Michael made a wounded noise.

“You haven’t played any game since I disappeared?” Jeremy nodded once, sharply, trying to contain the emotional roller coaster currently happening in his brain.

Michael was silent. Jeremy risked a glance up, and saw the younger boy staring at the controller in his hands, looking lost. Finally, he seemed to decide something, and plastered on a smile. He handed the controller back to Jeremy.

“Well, I can’t do this without my Player 2, can I?”

Neither of them commented on Jeremy’s shaking hands as they clutched the controller in a white knuckled grip.

Michael pressed “ _start_ ” on his own controller, and they were off.

 

Dawn was breaking outside the window when they reached the final boss. Michael whooped in victory, dancing in his bean bag chair as he leaned over to give Jeremy a high five.

“We’re almost there! Dude, we’re so close, I can almost taste it.” Jeremy laughed, leaning forward in his seat as he prepared for the final battle. He hadn’t had this much fun in years.

Suddenly, he was struck with the realization that this was it. This was the final boss. The last fight. After this, if all went well, Jeremy would… well, cease to exist?

Michael’s disappearance had defined his life – he became friends with Christine and Jake through his loneliness, he had stayed close to home in order to be closer to Mrs. Mell, he fell in love with drama, because it was an escape from the nightmare of reality. He was currently living in Michael’s house. What was going to happen to him when Michael went back? When he undid all of the pain and misery?

He paused the game, ignoring Michael’s shout of annoyance.

“What the hell?” Michael turned to yell, but tapered off as he saw Jeremy’s expression. “Wait, what’s wrong?”

“In seven years, your mom’s going to get breast cancer. For me it was too late, but maybe if they catch it earlier-”

Michael felt tears burning in his eyes. He knew what this was. Jeremy was saying goodbye.

“-and they think my dad might have arthritis in his hands, so… could you give me a heads up about that? Maybe I can force him into the doctor’s office for once.” Jeremy laughed, but it was so broken. It hurt to hear.

“Jeremy…” Michael warned, his hand coming up to rest on his friend’s arm. He smiled back, reaching up to take Michael’s hand in his own.

“Christine is actually pretty nice, and so are the rest of the popular kids. Tell me to get into theatre – I’ll be nervous but I’ll really love it, alright?” Michael nodded, feeling overwhelmed and _sad_.

“And, and- and I… there’s more you need to know, I-”

Michael squeezed his hand, and Jeremy clenched his eyes shut.

“Hey, listen, you don’t need to tell me everything. Gotta leave some things as a surprise right?” He was trying for lighthearted, but Jeremy was already shaking his head vehemently.

“No, no – not this. You need to hear this. I always promised myself that if you ever came back… if I ever saw you again…” Michael froze, his heart jumping in his chest.

“Jeremy; the one that you’re going to see when we beat this level,” Jeremy began, refusing to make eye contact. “He’s a really dumb kid, okay? He’s awkward, and nervous, and he masturbates too much, and he doesn’t appreciate everything he has and…” He took a deep breath, keeping Michael’s hand in a death grip by his side.

“And, he’s completely head over heels for his best friend. Stupidly in love.” Michael’s breath caught in his throat. His face burned with the blush that rushed into his cheeks.

“You- really?” Jeremy nodded, his own face flushing a deep red. Michael’s grin was wide enough to split his face in two.

“That’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever- Dude! I’ve been in love with you since, like 7th grade! Holy shit!” Michael was cheering, and crying, and all he wanted in that moment, more than anything else, was to be _home_.

He leaned forward into Jeremy’s personal space, lips puckered, and Jeremy could feel his own face burning with embarrassment as he laughed and pushes Michael back by his shoulders.

“Michael, maybe let’s wait until we’re the same age for that, okay? You don’t want our first kiss to be with middle-aged Jeremy. I promise.” Michael pouted, but acquiesced, leaning back into the bean bag with an emerging smile.

“I’m gonna seduce the shit out of teenage you.”

Jeremy put his head in his hands and groaned. “My poor past self. He doesn’t deserve this.”

Michael snickered, smirking as he picked up his controller. He hesitated for a minute, fidgeting with the joysticks.

“It was… really cool to meet you. I’m sorry for everything you went through, but…” and he shrugged, staring at the floor.

“Hey,” he said, getting Michael’s attention. “Trust me, I’ll be much happier with you there. You ready?” and Jeremy picked up his own controller, steeling himself for the battle to come.

It took them a couple tries. The boss had a difficult movement mechanic that allowed it to pause time and deal double damage. Eventually, Michael landed the final blow, and everything turned white.

 

It was a Wednesday night when Michael Mell woke up in his bean bag chair, thumb hovering over the start button to _Temporal Vertigo_.

The controller fell from his hands, clattering on the floor.

Feeling a sense of urgency, he jumped up, ripping the game from the console and throwing it to the floor. With a few well-placed stomps, the cartridge was shattered.

Unnerved and thinking somewhat illogically, he threw what remained of the game out the window in his panic.

He stood there for a long time, staring out the window taking deep breaths, until his phone buzzed with a message, dragging him out of his thoughts.

_From: Jeremy_

_[10:03 PM] Hey, did you get that new game you wanted to try?_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you all enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> There's just nothing like dimension breaking video games bringing our boys together.
> 
> Find me on tumblr @ treebrosephs if you wanna say hello or talk musicals <3


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